Wake Up Call
by itmeansnothing
Summary: Lilly's 7am wake-up call. AU. Lilly's POV.
1. Sound

**Wake-Up Call**

**Summary: Lilly's 7am wake-up call.**

**Author's Note: Okay so a couple of people requested a sequel to this one-shot story. Instead I'm going to write a five-part story. Lilly's POV throughout. Enjoy! **

**Dedication: I would like to dedicate this story to GlisteningShadow who constantly kicked me up the backside to write this. Thank you.**

**Chapter 1 – Sound.**

"I hope you enjoy your stay here, Miss Truscott," the mop-headed receptionist says overly cheery, it sounds so much like a hollow corporate saying.

"Well that depends on the quality of this hotel doesn't it?" I decide to deliberately make him uncomfortable, to see what his reaction will be.

"I can assure you, that this is a five-star hotel for a very good reason, we have excellent customer service," he calmly responds. I wonder if he really believes that.

"I'll look forward to seeing it."

He hands over the key to my room, "Would you like a wake-up call in the morning?"

"Oh yeah, actually that would be good, er about 7am?" _Stupid conference, why do they have it on so early?_

"7am it is," he says as I turn to head towards the elevator, "Have a nice day." Oh I can't believe he said that.

**6.58am...6.59am...7.00am**

The bedside phone goes off, "Uh, god it can't be that time already," my hand wonders across the bed..._is that the phone? _I feel a cold surface, _right that's the table,_ I lazily come into contact with the phone and lift it up to stop the irritating ringing, _that's much better, _the phone slowly makes its way towards my ear, "H-hello?" I utter still heavy in sleep.

"Good Morning Miss Truscott, this is your 7am wake-up call," I bolt upright in the bed, eyes fly open sending any of that weird little sleep stuff across the room. Her voice is delicate, sensual, and sweet as though honey is being dripped into my ear and slowly flowing down my throat sending a warm tingly sensation to my stomach. The side of my face that's pressing up to phone begins to heat up immensely, like I'm holding an iron to my head. Oh no, how long has this silence been here?

I let out a shaky breath, "T-thank you."

"No problem is there anything else I can do for y'all?" Oh my, that accent is so adorable. I need more of this heavenly voice, a voice that could calm a violent ocean.

"Er, yeah could I have a wake-up call for 7.03am?" I cringe; _I can't believe I've just said that._

"Tomorrow?" She asks happy to oblige.

"No, today," I almost whisper, extremely embarrassed to even ask such a stupid request.

"Okay," her confused tone is understandable but how comes even when she sounds perplexed by my silly request she sounds even cuter?

**7.01am...7.02am**

_Oh come on! Why is it when you're waiting for something it takes so much longer for time to pass than normal?_

**7.02am...7.03am**

The phone chirps once before I quickly grab it. "Hello!" I almost yelp down the phone, way over excited to hear her voice again.

"Good Morning Miss Truscott, this is your 7.03am wake-up call," sounding even more sensual then before. The exact same feelings hit me again only this time a lot harder. I can't contain the tiniest, smallest and almost wimpiest of sighs that escape. "Anything else I can do?" _Yeah there's a whole lot you could do but you'd probably get fired or something._

"Wanna have breakfast? I mean you're up, I'm up. It's almost fate," I ask. Where has this sudden burst of confidence come from?

"I don't think that would be really appropriate."

"You sure? We'll have some eggs, bacon, croissants, orange juice or some toast? What do you think?" I feel as though I'm begging. All I want is to do is listen to her voice all day long then record it for the plane journey home.

"I'm working. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Could I have a wake-up call at 7.06am please?"

"...sure."

"Oh and this time call me by my first name."

**7.04am...7.05am**

_What am I doing? It's not my fault she has such a hypnotic voice. I bet she has a magical singing voice, I bet she could sing the birds to sleep never mind the other way around._

**7.05am...7.06am**

"Good morning Lillian-"

"Not Lillian. Lilly," I interrupt to correct her.

"Good morning...Lilly," she lowers her tone from professional to husky and breathless to pronounce my name, sending me into an upward spiral of internal joy. I feel my heart melt and begin to trickle through my ear into the phone, down the line and into her waiting hands on the other side.

"A-re you s-sure I can't even tempt you with just a cup of coffee?" I try again to lure her out.

"I think your beginning to harass me."

"Hey, you're the one who keeps calling," I joke, which brings another sound of heaven to my ears, her endearing laugh, her sugary sweet giggle. I smile wildly hearing that I've pleased this angel in some way.

"You're not going to stop are you?"

"Nope. I'll ask you to ring at the beginning of every minute of every day that I'm here until you let me take you to breakfast, brunch, lunch, tea, dinner or supper."

"Alright then." _Did she just say yes? Screw the conference._

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Miley."

Miley, her name is as fascinating as her voice. "Where do you want to meet?"...

**Author's Note: Next chapter will be up extremely soon. Seriously. Really soon. But if you flood my inbox with reviews I'll update as soon as I wake up :P Thanks for reading!**


	2. Smell

**Author's Note: I was a little apprehensive about writing a continuation to this story because I felt like I might ruin it. But here goes!**

**Chapter 2: Smell.**

Two hours. Two hours! I can't wait that long. I must see this woman, this harbinger of such a delicate but strong accented voice. The southern drawl on every other word that tumbles from her lips seem to descend like a rustic leaf falling wistfully from an autumn gripped tree landing with consummate ease on the ground, or in my case my ears. They have never gotten such treatment. Usually I'm treated to boring, dull, lying corporate drone voices but this girl, wow. I don't think my ears deserve such pleasure. But I wouldn't say no to another dose, I swear her voice could cure earaches.

Back to now. Two hours she said until she got off work. She banned me from calling the receptionist desk again. It's not fair, I know where she is but I'm separated by lines and floors. I lie on the floor, my ear to the carpet, hoping maybe my hearing has super-humanly improved due to the telephone conversation earlier trying to hear a whisper of her sweet voice again.

**7.58am...7.59am...8.00am**

"This is silly."

My eyes wearily re-open with those three words echoing around my head. I look around the room noticing I'm still on the floor. There is no-one else here, so who said that?

As my mind begins to rejuvenate and awaken. The words whizz around gaining faster and louder clarity. 'Silly...silly...Lilly!' the slight drawl on the end of the words throws up only one possible candidate. Miley. I race to the hotel room door flinging it open, praying for a face to match to the voice. But all I see is the other door on the opposite side of the hallway, I look down this long white walled and red carpeted hallway to see nothing but doors and scantily placed plants. No vision of heavenly features to go with the honey based voice from earlier...it seems so long ago now.

Nothing. Nothing but- but, a smell...a scent. It's so light but addicting, less is more it seems with this aroma. I step out into the hallway to bathe myself in this shower of sweet smelling air, but as soon as I do though it begins to linger away. I shut my hotel room door and I run down the hall, maybe I'll pick up this fragrance again. I stop to rethink, _what am I do- _there's the scent again, I'm standing in front of an entrance to a stairwell. _Who would take the stairs when there is an elevator right next to it? Must be keep fit freak...maybe Miley is? Like cos she could be really fit, I mean like ungodly so, strong legs and-and- _

"Hey watch it!"

I pull myself from my day dream to see I'm in the way of an old couple, "sorry," I utter a quiet apology as they shuffle past.

"Damn young people, who think they just own the hall." I hear the older gentleman grumble while tidying up his white hair, it looks like a thought bubble clinging onto the back of his head. His wife rolls her eyes and offers me an apologetic look of her own. I just grin and go back to my original hunt.

I turn back to restart my search but the scent has been scuppered and dismembered by the smell of Ben-gay and baby powder...  
I wave my hands around in attempt to rid this unwanted smell and bring back the original essence that has captivated my attention. I sniff about trying to detect some whiff of a trail...I feel like a dog hunting down a fox. _Ah-ha! _I pick up a faint recollection of the initial alluring entity. I begin my descent down the stairwell, I peer over the side to view the long way down, I see at the bottom a faint flicker of a shadow running across and the sound of a door hurryingly closing.

I treat it as nothing and continue my journey. The stairwell is brimming with the odour, it's acting like a huge funnel as the smell swirls around gathering more significance and making it harder and harder not to want to just fall asleep smothered in this scent. It reminds me of warm, sunny beach days under sun too hot to even to buy ice cream without it melting within seconds but you do anyway. The white running ice cream trickles down your fingers onto the cone and you lift it up to catch whatever vanilla droplets fall. That's it! Vanilla!

It seems so obvious now this scent is plain, pure vanilla. Such a smell that releases a vast structure of recollection, it seems to initiate an olfactory flashback of pleasant memories. The warmth and comforting fragrance just unleashes softer and more caring memories of old. Innocent simple pleasures. But this perfume is not like other perfumes, this smells basic, original, untainted. True to the person, not from a bottle. The word plain has lost its true meaning, but it has found it again in this scent. Plain vanilla, as in untouched, pure, in its natural form not dressed or tarted up by some mainstream fragrance. Is this Miley? Does the honey voice have a vanilla smell? What does she look like?

I reach the last step and look up at the seemingly endless steps above noting that time just flew by being enraptured in that body of heavenly smells. I open the stairwell door with the receptionist's desk falling into view...

**Author's Note: Review please? Thank you for reading.**


	3. Sight

**Author's Note: Oh you guys! Awesome reviews, thank you so much! Srsly every single one of you are just awesome. Here be another one.**

**Chapter 3: Sight.**

I timidly wander out into the huge, wide, front lobby where the receptionist desk resides. Any other day I would stand and marvel at the elegant entrance of this hotel, crystal chandeliers hang from a ceiling surrounded by marble pilasters and ornate mouldings. But some other heavenly like vision distracts me from standing in awe. Despite still not knowing what she looks like, I'm sure I will be able to pick her out. As I have her smell locked away in my nose forever and her sound, a sound that shall never stray too far from my memory. First place to look would be the front desk.

I look up to see at the desk up ahead, a small figure with their back to the lobby, seemingly busy with piling random pieces of paper into different lockers. Is that her? Longish jet black hair, slumped shoulders, there's only one way to find out. I wander up to the front desk, "Guess who?" I say the words before I really study the person behind the desk. The person isn't small, they're just sitting. And it's a he! I should have known just by the smell that it wasn't her, and the voice...

"Hi-yo!" the person spins around in the chair to face me, he's Latino, his voice grates on me and he's only said two words, plus he seems to have an air of arrogance about him, "Hey babe, you always dress like that?"

Ugh! I want to slam his cheesy grin into the marble floors for calling me 'babe'. It sounds extremely jockish, not to mention unprofessional. "Hey! You work here?"

"I own the place," he smirks with an expression you want to just use as a punching bag.

Mental check – this hotel does have a bad point. I disregard his remarks about my clothing, treating them as some unflattering gesture towards me and move back to my main objective. "Do you know where Miley is?"

"Miley? Who's that?"

"You know Miley! The receptionist girl," _Oh my god! I haven't just been turned on my some robot voicemail wakeup call service, have I? _

"I know where she is." Mop headed boy returns, he walks past his supposed boss and clocks a look towards me that suggest that his boss isn't someone who knows the names of his employees. Luckily the boss hops off the chair and makes his way back to his mansion of a room I suspect. And it turns out I was right the first time, he is small.

"Where?" I ask turning my attention to more important things.

"Well she still has another hour left on her shift, so she should be here now but she disappeared about half an hour ago to somewhere, I have no idea."

_I know where._

"Okay thanks. I'll just have to look around for her then."

"Um...you sure you don't want to get changed first?" He asks.

"No, I'm fine." _God! Why is everyone so obsessed with what I'm wearing this morning?_

I make my way through two huge, wide French style windowed doors to see the vast dining area, only a couple of people dotted about as its still only- _hm, no watch. Oh well. _I make my way towards the end to end tables displaying breakfast buffet food. Croissants, bacon, sausages, all the foods I mentioned to Miley earlier. I look over the tables to see if someone is hiding below. No one is there. I turn around to see a brunette far off in the corner of this huge room, stacking menus away for the lunch time meal.

She's wearing a just over the knee length tight black skirt, long sleeved white button shirt with a black waist coat accompanying to make it look professional. Her brunette hair is contained and constricted by being tied up at the back of her head. She seems to be tall, well just a bit taller than me. No sound coming forth. No smell, as any smell is being overpowered by me standing so close to the buffet tables. I think, I think this might be her. My vision locks and narrows on this woman. I make my way towards her, with each step I strain for a smell or a sound to present itself to confirm that it is her. No such luck. I realise I'm now standing just a few feet behind her, she is still working away, tidying forks and knifes.

I clear my throat.

"Breakfast doesn't start for another 10 minutes, y'all will have to come back later."

_Oh god that voice, oh god my knees._

I fall slightly and lean back on the nearest table for support. I feel as though I'm standing on honey right now, as I can't find my balance. It's Miley. I'm going to have to tell her that it's me. How is she going to react? Will she call the police for stalking? Am I then going to be hauled away kicking and screaming by the men with the white jacket? With a tape recorder in hand trying desperately to save a bit of her sweet voice for my long years in the white padded room. Or is she just going to be shocked...or maybe awed. Hopefully awed. Wishful thinking.

"M-Miley?" _No going back now._

Her head does a sharp little jolt, she knows it's me. She's staring intently at the back wall still not turning to face me. _Maybe I was wrong._

"Lilly?" She asks either in hope or despair. I can't figure which.

"Yeah. It's me." I stare at the back of her neck that's on display due to her hair being tied up. It looks smooth and soft.

"I told you to wait. Wait until I'm finished."

Is she angry? "Sorry. I couldn't...I couldn't help myself. I can't wait." _Well it's the truth._

I see her head drop, oh no I think I've disappointed her or something. I don't want to disappoint her.

"It's alright," she begins to say, "I couldn't either." _I knew that was her outside of my room. That was her scent._

She slowly turns, as if in slow motion, the first thing I notice is her cute ears. Each slow turning second that passes more of her features come to light. Her slightly red tinged cheeks are next, is she embarrassed? Shy probably, her velvety charming skin looks so inviting. I grip the table I'm leaning back on to restrict me from lounging at her, baby steps would be wise. Her adorable button nose attracts my attention next, but as soon as I fall for one feature on her face I find and fall for another. My eyes gaze to her lips, they appear so natural and warm. How can something look warm? I don't know but that's how they are. They're spectacular. I peer upwards and I find two blue windows staring back at me, like clear blue sky with hints of grey cloudiness covering over. It gives the impression of smoky blue eyes. They are deep set and framed by her teasingly out long black lashes. Her eyes are impeccable.

I'm not aware of the look I'm sending her way, probably awe struck. But her look is one of the same. I think. I feel it changing, her eyes begin to widen more than they usually do and her mouth drops a touch to express...shock? That's not the look I wanted. I glance downwards and a look of horror sketches and almost replicates the look of Miley's. I'm still wearing my baby blue silk pyjamas, everything is covered, they are long bottoms and long sleeved. But it's not how you want to approach someone you kinda like for the first time. I look back to Miley and her look is no longer of shock but the corners of her mouth quiver and threaten to turn upwards into a smile. They do and the sound of her laughter fills my ears once again. It doesn't take me long to follow suit and join her in laughing.

We compose ourselves, and I offer her a table so we can have that breakfast. I pull out a chair for her to sit upon. I walk slightly faster than normal to my chair to the side of her on this square table. I sit and a small silence befalls us. I smile and she smiles back. _Good start. _I hand her a menu.

"Oh I know what's on it, I don't need one."

"No. It's not for you, I would like you to read it to me."

She furrows her brow in bewilderment at my request, but she smiles and begins to read. She must be getting use to my weird little wishes.

We talk and eat, we talk seemingly for minutes but it's actually hours. I find out all sorts of fascinating stuff about her, well fascinating to me may not be the case for someone else but I don't care. Anything that has anything to do with Miley, I want to know about it.

"God, here I am prattling on and on about myself and you've hardly said a word. I'm sure you think I'm extremely self-centred and boring," she asks.

"No, no...I could listen to you for hours, and you're not boring. I don't know what it is but you could make watching painting dry exciting," I pay her an honest complement. Flirting? Maybe.

She bites her lower lip softly and slowly releases it. I can't tear my eyes away. I'm much too focused on glaring at her lips and replaying that over and over in my head. So much so that I miss Miley about to reach for the honey bottle.

"Honey?"

"Yes...you are..." my blank far off face matches the pilotless brain within it, I snap out of it and realise what I've just said, "um...I mean..."

Miley smiles again at me making me blush furiously. I make my hands move to try and distract her from looking at me going redder than a tomato. She notices that she's staring at me a little so she moves her hands too. We both direct our hands to the honey bottle...

**Author's Note: Guess what sense is next! :P You guys really motivated me to write this as quickly as I could with your story alerts and reviews, so thank you very much for that. What did you think? Let me know! :)**


	4. Touch

**Author's Note: Better late than never? I had to really make an effort to write again.**

**Dedication: To GlisteningShadow. You know why. You're always there for me. Even exactly one year on :)**

**Chapter 4: Touch.**

She beat me to the honey, though it's more like she has beaten me to and consumed the honey a long time before I ever found the right table to sit at because I have never endured a moment so sweet. My fingers are currently touching hers. I daren't move. I don't want to ruin it.

My eyes have not moved from staring at the vision of my fingers on hers, I don't know where she is looking but she hasn't pulled away…which is good. I don't know why I am even thinking that, I shouldn't be, I'm pretty sure she likes me. As each second passes though, those voices of doubt fade away like a quiet mouse to the back of my mind to be replaced by the louder elephant in the room; I haven't said anything or moved my hand in what feels like minutes now.

"Erm," my ever reliable wit coming to save me, "sorry."

"It's okay."

_Move your hand now Lilly… _My brain is usually in charge of my outer extremities, but it seems it has lost control of this clumsy vessel. I don't want to move it. A simple, small, accidental touch shouldn't have an affect of these proportions. I've shaken many hands in my life, being the business woman that I am, men and women, some even famous, but none have given me this sense of awe struck nature. We're not even shaking hands, we're barely touching, god forbid if we high fived or something. This current predicament has reverted myself into the accident-prone child I was and that I have been ever since this brunette cast her first dizzying spell upon me.

My fingertips move down her sleek fingers to the back of her hand in an action that I don't remember sanctioning. My hand has taken on a life of its own, which is worrying in a sense. Smooth, very soft and vast amounts of warmth, not just from the feel of her hand but she just seems to radiate it without even trying. I haven't gazed into her eyes so I don't know what she thinks of me holding her hand like this. I bring my other hand to form underneath hers and bring it to rest in front of me on the table. I gently place my hand on top of hers, her hand now clasped between mine, like a Miley sandwich…_dirty thought._

"Satisfied?" She queries but the tone of her voice is light and seemingly endearing to my odd behaviour.

"Yeah…" I respond weakly, too busy letting my finger lightly write imaginary letters on the top of her hand. All thoughts of her being freaked out by this have long since gone. I know, for some reason, I just know she likes this. I feel comfortable now, not like before all fingers and thumbs, shying away. She just brings something out of me, I don't exactly know what or how but all I do know is I would like more of it.

I've only met this charming, spirited woman but every morsel of blood within me is summoned by her mere touch, the sound of her voice and invigorating scent. Each new wave of sense I discover is like the beginning of a new meeting for me. They endear me towards her more and more. To the point I turn into a doe eyed mountain of mush.

She giggles. No idea why, I've been lost in my thoughts while staring down at her hand in mine, tracing invisible lines over the back of her hand.

"You're aware of what you are spelling aren't you?" She asks. I look up to meet her gaze, her eyes look so happy, like they've just found something they thought they had lost forever. Her exuberant smile causes my fingers to stop moving around.

"What?" I ask obliviously.

"You keep spelling out your name on the back of my hand. Lilly." She brings her other hand upon mine to stop me from moving them away after probably sensing the small twitch in my fingers when she pointed out what I've been doing.

"Oh, um, well, I thought," _What? You thought what? You can't explain this. You thought you would trace your name on her hand so if she ever got lost people would return her to you? Don't be so sappy, maybe-_

"It's alright. I found it kinda sweet and calming. I've been nervous ever since I gave someone a wake up call this morning, which is why I've been talking your ears off." I'm touch by her honesty.

"Good nervous or bad nervous?" I ask.

"I didn't know there was a difference."

"Sure there is, for instance if you're about to give a speech to 2000 people and you get jittery backstage and accidently throw up in what you thought was a bin but was the universities, just been won, basketball trophy…that's bad nervous." She smiles laughing, probably realising that isn't completely fictitious example.

"What's good nervous then?"

I ponder for a second, wondering if I should use this opportunity, I decide to go for it, why stop now? "Well… a good nervous is the first day of your dream job, you know, you're finally doing what you've always wanted to do, you're still slightly nervous though." I look down to our hands clasped together, a joyous feeling swiftly bubbles through to the surface triggering a wide smile and I look back to Miley to further my explanation, "Another example of good nervous is finally meeting that person you've been waiting for, whether it's been years, months, weeks or just a morning."

She doesn't say anything, she just looks at me. Her eyes never once leave mine as she takes her hand away from our house of hands, stands up and brings the chair she was sitting on to be placed next to me. Our hands now together again between the two of us, she faces me, "You know, ever since I met you, you've been so…"

I take a moment to think up my own ending to that sentence; _Charming, adorable, cute, sweet?_

"Weird."

"Oh…thanks."

"Don't worry, you're my type of weird," she smiles once again, bringing her finger to brush away a loose bang of blonde hair behind my ear. Her touch is elegant, with no urgency to rush her hand away from the cheek she now softly caresses.

Closing my eyes, I instinctively lean into her hand, craving a little more touch, more warmth. I want her to keep her hand there for as long as possible. If she found what I was doing before calming, I find this probably more so. No thoughts running through my mind anymore, no worries, no more 'is this weird' post-it notes popping up in my head, I've lost to peace.

I slowly open my eyes to see Miley only a few inches from me. "Can I do something I've wanted to do for a while now?" She asks as her breath tickles my lips.

I give a quick smile and a nod. As she slowly moves forward bringing her lips closer to touch mine, I glance down to see her tongue gently lick her lips in anticipation. As I look back to her eyes they begin to close, her flashes of blue never stop glistening.

I start to close my own eyes feeling her warm breath touch my barely parted lips, awaiting another meeting…

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading. It's been so long since I've written anything, I don't know if this is up to scratch. So reviews would be nice :)**


	5. Taste

**Author's Note: Surprise! What? You didn't think I'd leave you for long did you? :P Here's the final chapter.**

**Chapter 5: Taste.**

Her lips firstly brush contact with mine as we both tentatively move and shape around each other, neither really kissing nor not kissing, as though neither of us want to push the other into something too fast. Ironic really, since I'm already in my pyjamas. It's like we're slow dancing and the taste at this moment is only one of anticipation and patience. With each millisecond of time that passes, we begin to play a little game of cat and mouse, each of us seemingly pressing our lips together a bit more in want to make the other go a bit further, to top it.

I feel her hands inch their way to rest on my shoulders, before they quickly feel to my neck. Moving one hand to behind my head apparently unable to take any more of this teasing game, she presses her lips fully to mine. I push back in the kiss with the same eagerness. Though we're no longer as tentative the kiss is still gentle. I feel her exhale sharply out her nose, in excitement. We pull apart only enough that there is a glimmer of space between us.

"Hi," she says smiling widely almost giggling, blissfully unaware to any other surroundings, I'm the same.

"Hi," I answer back, "so, this isn't really fair."

"What?"

"Well you've seen me in my pyjamas already and I have yet to see you," I remind directing her gaze to my current attire.

She laughs again, "I can't believe I've just kissed a girl in pyjamas, correct that, a girl I've only really just met," she pauses to think, I have a feeling she's thinking the same as I am, "why doesn't it feel weird? You know, because we have just met."

"I know but everyones story is different," which is true, some slow, some fast but to the people involved maybe it's just feels normal to them. It's only fast or slow to the people on the outside looking in. Either way, I'm not that bothered and at a slight push I don't think she is either. I decide to ask, "Does it bother you?"

"No, not at all, just wondering." I raise an eyebrow at this. "Alright, I was seeing if you felt the same." I begin to smile at her admission. "Shut up," she jokingly replies, playfully knocking her forehead against mine.

I see her eyes float down to see my tongue lick over my lips as an invitation to kiss me again. She more than easily accepts.

Her hands slide to my cheek as she moves forward connecting our lips once again. Not as soft and slow as the last. A bit more impatience from both of us in this kiss, it seems with each one the addition grows. The curiosity grows. I feel her lips settling with mine, as sweet silent whispers is realised by our bodies, how comes they're ahead of us? I and Miley can't seem to really get our heads around it, yet our bodies are speaking the language fluently. Such things can't and shouldn't be analysed, just go with the flow. Why stop now anyway?

Her sweet lips, taste of peaches as I flick my tongue across them. Thinly coated lip gloss my guess. I can't get enough of it to be honest. My hands move up her back to reach into her hair, still bound up, restricted at the back of her head. I untangle the offending string and her hair falls pass my fingers. I unlock my lips from hers, to see her long brunette hair rest below her shoulders, there's such an array of different shades of brunette, from dark to light. I stroke her hair behind her ear, "so you fancy letting me get changed and taking you for a proper breakfast?"

"What's wrong with what you're wearing now?"

"I'd only like you to ever seen me in these things, not everyone else in the world," I smile standing up and offering my hand. She takes my hand and stands up reminding me that I haven't kissed her in a while.

I pull her into me and dive into another scintillating, energy draining kiss. Her tongue brushes against mine, each kiss we've had is different from the last but make no mistake each one makes me as light headed. My senses engulf in all I've experienced this morning in one glorious moment, her soft supple moans from our kissing, the scent of her perfume radiating from her hair bathing me in a cocoon I never wish to break out from, the vision of her cute, pretty eyes and luscious lips shall never leave me, her skin is warm to touch but growing in heat every passing moment.

Yes, as I thought before, a moment never tasted so sweet.

We separate our lips, both of us are breathing heavy to recover, though the feeling of dizzying highs might not ever disappear with Miley beside me.

"I feel we've found something here," she says fitting her fingers between the spaces of mine, "you think?"

"Yeah I do. I have a sixth sense about these things."

**The End.**

**Author's Note: That's it. I know you might be thinking 'what happens next?' but that wasn't really the point of this story. It's all about each of the senses and how they met. Basically a wake up call for the both of them :P  
Anyway I would like to thank all those who read and/or reviewed this story, they helped in making sure I did come back and finish it. Sorry it took so long to finish though, but good things come to those who wait… hopefully it was good. Let me know what you thought about the chapter/story. Thanks again! :)**


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